Orange Sky (Ch1)
by Desmond Childs
Summary: It was under an orange, faded sky. There were white clouds drifting along the atmosphere, guided by a cold, cutting wind. Shane's trip brought him toward immortality, sacrifice, and eternal youth.


**It was under an orange, faded sky. There were white clouds drifting along the atmosphere, guided by a cold, cutting wind. Shane's trip brought him toward immortality, sacrifice, and eternal youth.**

"When will you stop for rest!? I'm sure your body is breaking down as we speak! Are your internal organs not crying out for sustenance!?." complained AO.  
He had been along for the ride, so to speak. Hanging tightly from a tin, lace necklace. Shane had been on a rampage. The two of them had traveled nearly four miles before the middle of the day. It was clear the young adventurer was on a mission. Or that was the way it appeared to AO. It had actually been impressed with Shane's enthusiasm. Whatever kept Shane going at such a pace, AO hoped it would last well into the night, at least.

Shane didn't want to stop yet. There were only a few miles left until they reached the checkpoint. He wanted to see if he could push himself a little further without having to stop for rest. It was sort of a game he'd play to pass the time. First, he would get the usual information he needed from AO. The weather report, the estimated time of arrival, that sort of thing. Then, he'd take off for the next town without eating anything until he had arrived. It was not a game Shane won very often.

**"Nah. I'm not hungry just yet. Besides we're almost there, right?"**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Atomic Ordinance Amulet, or AO for short; was actually One of twelve heirlooms enchanted with ancient black magic. The purpose of the heirlooms was to serve as guides to the twelve offspring of the old, King of the West. However the twelve nations, instead of growing into harmonious, peaceful kingdoms; became warring countries. Thousands of years of blood and death, and broken truces led to a beaten, and bruised land.

The 12 heirlooms were collected by the famous ranger, Zeff; who quietly discarded them throughout the world. Zeff, after finding love and growing old, settled in the Eastern region. There she made a living telling stories to the fishermen and farmers while they worked. They repaid her with meals, and a place to stay; as she soon grew too disillusioned to sustain a job. Her husband had long passed away, and she became sort of a hermit. It was during a later period in her life, that she would meet Shane. Zeff had made it known that she had discarded all of the heirlooms in order to stave off any hoarders. In truth, she had kept one, silver amulet for herself. This particular piece of jewelry had a unique magic instilled within. It possessed an intelligence rivaled only by the long deceased priests of the Orange Mountains. It was inherently wise, but more so than any man or woman living during this time. It's true magic lay in it's ability to protect it's user within it's barrier. The barrier is near impenetrable, with only the other heirlooms being able to break through.

AO had been given to Shane as a guide. Zeff had watched Shane grow into a young man. After his father was exiled from the region, Zeff took Shane under her wing. She taught him about the world, it's politics and the dark turn civilization had taken. Zeff, having been trained by Halgo, of the Mist, decided to pass on her techniques to Shane. Learning how to fight, or at least how to use a firearm, were things Zeff thought were vital for a traveler. Shane had the heart of a lion, and the head of a bull. He believed in helping others, and longed for the day he'd be able to make a difference. Although he was optimistic, he still felt a great sadness for the had decided that he would make a vow to Zeff and his father. He would be the one to bring peace and harmony. He believed love was the key. Not hate. Discrimination. Prejudice. Malice. All of these things had slowed the progress of the world.

"Madam Zeff, I will be the one to restore order!" he would often say.

Not long after Shane's birthday, during the season of flowers, Zeff offered up her memento as a gift. The silver medallion of Dhatule, the only heirloom she saw fit to keep after discarding the rest. The medallion had begun to fade in luster, but still seemed to glow in Shane's hand. It was as if his very soul illuminated the jewel.

"Madam Zeff, I couldn't possibly take away your most prized treasure." said Shane handing it back.

Zeff smiled her world-worn smile and nodded her head.

"You are my most prized treasure, dear boy."

She clasped Shane's open hand, slowly gripping his fingers around the edges of the medallion. Shane stood in wide-eyed wonder. This woman had taken him in. She had cared for him. Now it seemed she was bestowing a great responsibility into his own unworthy, hands. Zeff had become something special to Shane. Not a mother. He was attracted to her spirit. It was inspiring, and had Shane not been of brown skin, he would've been blushing. Zeff was an older lady, having been born in the Period of Pompen. She had spent much of her life on the run from armed thieves or bloodthirsty mercenaries. She had made a name for herself dabbling in black magic, and many thought she had a hand in creating the heirlooms. She was, without question a living relic. A piece of history often ignored or pushed aside for more contemporary concerns. She was an old book, propped under the gimpy leg of an old table. Just useful enough. At least in the eyes of some of the village folk she shared her many stories with. Shane was the exception. For his love and devotion to perfecting his skill and craft; she wanted to reward him.

The faded, lackluster medallion, sat resting in Shane's closed palm. Ever so special, the magical artifact had been given it's own conscious. It had it's own presence tucked away somewhere within the necklace. No doubt the result of the most advanced black arts. Suddenly, the jewelry began to glow. It pulsed and hummed. There were green and blue lights shining and forming into a cluster of magic around Shane's fist. The medallion was waking up! It had been reactivated, perhaps for the day's occasion. Shane's body flinch with surprise, and Zeff released his hand. The medallion ceased it's glowing, but retained a low, barely audible hum. The sound of a calm, clear voice rang out from the medallion! Shane was frozen in shock.

**"...Has it been this long, O'great Ranger? Has this blue planet ceased it's mortal combat and moved toward the light?" asked the medallion, in a depressed sort of drone.  
Zeff gave a slight bow and motioned for Shane to do the same. She refastened a button on her cloak, and grimly called out something in a strange language. It was a language that Shane could not understand, but the medallion responded in yet another low, sullen tone.  
"I shall do as I am destined to, great Ranger. I, an Atomic Ordinance, will do the bidding of my fallen King of the West!"  
The medallion was still in Shane's hand. He was frightened. He dared not move. The medallion sort of flickered and glistened in his palm. There was silence as Zeff stared into Shane's eyes.  
"Treat It with love, and respect. It is your compass." she said, half whispering.  
"What is it they call you, dear boy?" bellowed the medallion, again buzzing in Shane's palm. It's tone bothered Shane, and shook him out of his stunned disposition. He straightened himself to full posture and added a little bass to his response.  
"I am Shane. Son of Shakron. I am going to carry out the will of the Mist. The pursuers of righteousness. I will be a beacon for truth. Hope. I will light up the path for this world to follow. And I shall usher in a new era of peace and harmony!" he bellowed, practically screaming.  
The room was silent for a brief moment. Zeff shook her head in approval, and let out a small giggle. The medallion also seemed amused. His laugh, however, seemed to irritate Shane.  
"How smug." joked the medallion, "Even for a youth, your ambition is enough to fill thousands of history books, dear boy." The medallion seemed to have a knack for pushing buttons. This time he had pushed Shanes'.  
"Please!" began Shane, "Don't call me; boy."  
Zeff, sensing the growing tension in the room, diplomatically put an end to it. Shane was still irritated. The medallion, however, appeared to be more amused. Perhaps excited even.  
"By the way, Son of Shakron, you may refer to me as A.O. As I have no name, other than the black magic label given to me by the ancients."  
"A.O., huh? And here I thought destiny would've been a little more creative." remarked Shane, hoping AO would feel the slight.  
"Oh, how typical!" barked AO, "A smug, puffed up little pup with a wit to match! Can't say I'm surprised!" said AO. He burst into laughter as Shane's anger began to sizzle. Zeff quickly snatched the medallion and shook it like a snow globe.  
"Ouch! Alright! Okay! I'm sorry!" the medallion cried, "It 'twas only a jest. A joke, for heaven's sake!"  
"It wasn't a very funny one, AO!" hissed Zeff, as she clasped a new, tin lace around the jewel.**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"By the beard of Bremakain! If you do not decide soon, I'm liable to rust!."

A.O. was not one for subtlety. It did however understand the concept of sarcasm; and quickly developed a wit to match.

"Oh alright! Please, spare me your unique brand of nagging!"

Shane rolled his eyes, and wiped the sweat from his brow. He had nearly made it the full trip. He still didn't want to stop, but now his own stomach had betrayed him. It had been grumbling and groaning in between his steady strides along the dirt road.

"That's probably not a good sign." He thought to himself.

"And here I thought you were keen on breaking the world record for most days without eating." Quipped AO.

Shane did not pick up on the sarcasm. AO was probably the smartest being on the face of the earth, to Shane. Whenever It made remarks about the world, however silly or sardonic, Shane generally took it as the truth.

"Is that so? Tell me, AO, what is the record for most days without eating and who holds it?"

"There was a man, Tarpen Dayne, of the Northern Kingdom, went two weeks without food or water"  
Answered AO,

"Although technically it was because he was thrown into prison for stealing. He was a constant thorn in that empire's side and they basically starved him to death."

Shane was not amused. While he didn't appreciate AO's lack of a filter, he never questioned the validity of It's statements. Zeff had made it very clear to Shane that none of the 12 enchanted heir looms were capable of bearing false witness. She also insisted Shane treat AO like a precious artifact. The young traveler had at least listened to half of what Zeff had instructed him.

"Well, Shane. You did inquire about it, did you not?" Chuckled AO, hanging from Shane's cheap, tin necklace. The amulet felt it had zinged the zinger, and that was a game It had not won very often.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Order number nine, coming in on time!"

The cook, bartender, and bard not only had several pokers in the fire; he boasted that he could or had done many other things throughout his lifetime before settling down. The patrons believed him, too. He was so skilled at what he could do, that there was no reason to doubt the old, stout gentlemen. Even if his tales of fame and adventure were a bit on the tall side. Shane was order number ten and decided to go with the soup of the month. This month, it was steamed apple and squash stew. The multi talented owner of the tavern, in all his glory and tremendous skill, spent many hours testing new recipes and drinks. While most taverns and inns had a soup of the day, this place was content on sticking with one special a month.

"You never know! Maybe at the beginning of the month you hated my soup, but after 24 days of the same thing; you'll start to come around!" Said the cook, explaining his "soup of the month" theory to Shane. It was a joke, of course. The area surrounding the town was a wasteland of sorts and yielded very little for the farmers. The town had a violent history of war, and the blood stained soil was an ugly reminder of what had been.  
"Order ten, oh! That's you, right kid?" Bellowed the cook,  
"Eat up young fella', travelers will need the strength heading out into this storm of the Century we're expecting."

AO was troubled by the man's words, and inquired about what he had meant. Shane plopped down on a bar stool, grabbed his spoon and slurped down his bowl of soup. He knew why AO was talking to the bar keeper. The weather was something travelers took very seriously, for obvious reasons. The barkeeper mentioned a very, dangerous storm that the townspeople had been dreading. There were legends about the storm coming around every ten or fifteen years. What it left in it's horrible wake were usually broken lives and shattered dreams, according to the barkeeper at least.

"Are you sure, good sir, of this inclement weather?" Asked AO,  
"I do not detect- "

"If he says it's going to be bad, AO, it's going to be bad." Shane mumbled with his mouth half-full of mashed apple and squash.  
"It isn't nice to pry, AO. The man clearly knows this part of the region better than you or I. Let's graciously abide by his warning."

AO did not speak anymore about it, and turned his attention toward other topics and issues. All the while, Shane shoveled down Apple-Squash stew and chased it with the town's famous Bear Stone Ale. The drink was an adequate beverage on it's own, but did manage to produce a welcome aftertaste of Hulloberry.

The tavern was a spacious,, inviting place where local fishermen and farmers frequented throughout the day. There were several rows of oak tables aligned along the edges of the bar. The center of the tavern was the designated dance floor. Sometimes local bards or comedians would perform on holidays or birthday parties. The place had also been a popular setting for banquets and wedding ceremonies. The deep corners of the rooms had musty, cobwebs and pieces of party stringers hanging about. There was a dusty rope of holiday lights, clumsily dangling off toward the far left portion of the tavern behind the bar. Outside the tavern stood a large, sturdy oakwood tree. The tree's massive branches stretched out and over the tavern, serving as a shade from the bright sun or heavy rains. There were nests and holes in the trunk where birds and squirrels had made their home; making the great tree a healthy habitat to many. The surrounding huts and dens were, like the tavern, made from a special type of clay-brick blend. The construction was sturdy, reliable and survived many harsh winters and blazing summers. Ironically, it was the rainy, wet days that produced floods; which gave the town most of it's infrastructure problems. The population, though modest, was an honest, hardworking few that valued each hour of the day. The mornings were for time spent with family. The afternoons were for time spent drinking and gossiping. The women would be working out in the fields or housekeeping till noon; but the men would drink and sing songs about the hard life they evenings, however seemed to be when most of the work got done. It was as if the men were trying to compensate for the lack of time they spent in the afternoon working; by doubling their efforts during the later hours of the day. Regardless of the motivations of the townspeople, their life was a simple, honorable one.

"How could you betray our arrangement by siding with the stranger at the tavern?"  
Complained the necklace. AO waited for a response before adding,

"Clearly the man was either mistaken or purposely lying about the weather."

Shane understood AO's annoyance, but had begun to get a strange feeling about the town. As if the townspeople, the tavern, and the people were all a little too calm. Or perhaps they weren't bothered enough by the storm that was apparently going to be one of the town's worst.  
After lunch, Shane and AO toured the small town and spoke with many of the people. They rode out onto the sea with some fishermen and heard their stories. Shane watched several housewives kneading dough and steaming noodles for the late lunches of their husbands, brothers, and sons. AO, being a hungry beacon of knowledge, began making note of the town's storied but tragic history for record. And the two of them, Shane and his enchanted amulet, did this from two o'clock in the afternoon until about eight-thirty that night.

"Of all the stories and legends we've heard," Shane began,.

"None of them trouble me more than this Storm of the Century bit."

The pair had heard from several different individuals about the destruction brought on by the storm that was happening later that night.

"What seems the most disturbing is the lack of genuine fear." Added AO.

"These people could all be killed, providing the storm they've described truly is coming here"

For all their simple, honorable ways; the townspeople seemed at least concerned about the Storm of the Century. AO did not think the people fully realized the power behind such a storm, and felt them a bit silly for treating the whole ordeal as a non-issue.

"It's because of their pride,, I think." Said Shane, handing the barkeep his three coins.

"Historically, this place has survived worse than some storm. I get the feeling these people think they can beat it." he smiled.

"Beat what?" whined AO, "I do not sense anything!"

"Alright, Mister! Three coins will get ya the soup of the day, and some ale. That alright with you, traveler?" Blared the barkeeper.

"Yes sir. Thank you." Replied Shane.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, are you going to try to run...?"

After Shane had gotten his order, the barkeeper took care of several other patrons. Some ordered the Apple+Squash stew and Bearstone Ale. Others, who could afford a bit more, added on a slab of boar ribs and cheddar biscuits. There were pots of coco pudding, and fresh steamed vegetables. Plates full of salmon, trout, mashed potatoes, and strained, pressed green beans. The whole atmosphere was, at first, a comfortable place to dine. Then, when Shane asked what he had, the entire tone of the tavern was transformed.

"Could you please repeat that, bub? I couldn't really hear you over the pots and pans. You know how it- "

"I asked if any of you were going to run?" Shane said, pressing a bit more for emphasis.  
"If the storm, as AO has said once before, is truly the caliber you speak of; surely you all have some sort of a plan of action?"

The tavern had a good number of patrons within. Up until that point, they had all been enjoying their night at the tavern. No controversy. No messes. A few bar fights, but that was always blamed on the town's famously strong, Bearstone Ale. Once Shane had rocked the boat, so to speak, many of the fishermen and farmers seemed to be glazed over in disbelief. It was as if the reality of their dire situation had finally set to dry, and their worlds were given the "OK" to crash down around them. After Shane's question, one man in particular seemed to stir the fear and tension in the room with his outburst.

"He's right! Oh God! He's bloody right!" He blurted out.

"The storm is going to drown the crops, and sink our boats! Our children will not be safe from the floods unless we do something!"

His retort sent a shockwave of panic splashing against the faces of everyone else within the room, including Shane; and several patrons ran screaming from the tavern.

"Calm down. Everyone! PLEASE!" Yelled the barkeeper.

His usually loud voice was snuffed out amongst the panic and terror that spread all over like a brush fire catching along a slight breeze. The townspeople were now consumed with uncertainty, and many scrambled to and fro trying to gather anything and everything in preparation for the "end". The tavern, usually a shining example of cleanliness was now in shambles. Bar stools had been tossed and tripped over. Plates and glasses were smashed, as patrons crashed into each other and bounced off tables and chairs. The scene had looked as if a storm had already hit.

"This is a nightmare!" Said the barkeeper.

"I know! Imagine what that storm's going to do." Said Shane, followed by a short whistle.

"Now you've done it, you idiot! Everyone is in a panic! What have I told you about that mouth of yours!?"  
Barked AO. Shane frowned while observing the frantic scene.  
"But AO, I thought you said there wasn't going to be a storm?"  
he remarked, shaking his head at the action around him. AO grunted but said nothing.  
"Oh I get it!" said Shane.  
AO was flabbergasted at the way things had turned out. It had been around for thousands of years, and the only thing that made people scramble around like that was war.

"These people are about to lose their homes. Their- "  
"Way of life?" Interrupted Shane.  
"These townspeople, from what they've told us, have known about this 'storm' for quite some time now."

The barkeeper was livid and still upset about his tavern.  
"Look at this place! You sent my customers into a frenzy! And over what? A storm of the Century!?"

Shane, still seated on his own bar stool, slowly got up and faced the chaos behind him within the tavern.

"There's no way 47 coins is going to cover all this damage." He said finally turning to face the barkeeper.

"Sir, I am truly sorry for our behavior, especially Shane." Began AO.  
"Surely there is something- "

"YOU'VE DONE ENOUGH!" screamed the barkeeper, now shaken with fear and anguish.

"...Is this it for me? ….Am I going to die tonight?" He spoke aloud, as if he was alone in the room.

"It's not the end if you have a plan!" replied Shane.  
"And since I did, sort of ruin your tavern here; how about I repay you by keeping you all from drowning?"

The barkeeper, with head in hands, looked up and glared over at Shane. This traveler had, in one day, destroyed his business. At least in his own mind. He did however get a strange feeling when looking at Shane. There was an air about the young traveler, that instilled something within the barkeeper. What it was, he couldn't say.

"Drowning?"  
Asked the broken barkeep, "Son, this isn't that kind of storm." he uttered,  
"I knew it!" cried Shane.

"You are going to be attacked tonight, is that it!?"

"The Storm of the Century is a band of mercenaries that likes to loot our town for supplies every few months or so." answered the barkeeper.

"Why don't you defend yourselves!?" yelled AO.

"With what!? We're farmers and fishermen! We our axes and knives are nothing against their rifles and swords! We're as good as dead if we resist!" boomed the barkeeper.

"Don't worry, we'll help you." said Shane winking at the barkeeper,  
"Go round up the other townspeople and take cover in your storm cellars!"

The barkeeper looked puzzled again. He stared at Shane, and then the necklace around his neck. Then he smacked his hand down on his leg as if he had made a connection.

"Wait a minute! Yes! I understand now! You're a mystic, aren't you!?" he hollered, practically laughing.  
"Oh, praise be!" he said, head in hands,  
"We're surely be saved now! HA ha!"

Shane and AO were the ones puzzled now. The once worn down and morbid tavern owner was back to being his jovial, ignorant self. What made him think Shane was a mystic? Was it because of AO? Shane had never introduced himself as anything, much less something as clever or resourceful as a mystic. Shane stood up from his stool and began to pace around the room.  
"Am I the guy for the job?" he thought to himself, mulling over the situation carefully.  
AO, on the other hand, wanted to set the record straight.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but we're merely-"

"We'll take care of it!" blurted Shane not giving AO the chance.

"Oh thank you, wise Mystic!" replied the barkeeper. His fear had all but been replaced with glee, and it had even started to creep Shane out.

"Oh boy. Looks like another test, as it were." whined AO, in his usual drone. He knew Shane was serious. Whenever he told someone, "we'll take care of it", Shane usually meant by whatever means necessary. And that was something that wasn't necessarily, necessary.

"Don't worry, old friend! This time, my plan won't involve me tossing you into the mouth of any dragons! I Swear!" cried Shane.

"How comforting. I suppose I should be grateful" whispered AO. He was already dreading the alternative Shane had in mind.


End file.
